


Herding The Flock

by LastFadingSmile



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Shenko kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-03
Updated: 2012-05-03
Packaged: 2017-11-04 19:10:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LastFadingSmile/pseuds/LastFadingSmile





	Herding The Flock

Andy Alenko sat in a quiet smoulder, squirming in his chair under the unsympathetic watch of the receptionist, Mrs Beasley. She was a rough looking woman, overweight and ruddy-cheeked, and always surly. The only smile she had to offer was for the tray of cupcakes she kept on her desk, the cupcakes that she made an effort to leave out in the open and noisily devour whenever there were sulky miscreants in earshot. She was indulging one now, the frosting smeared around her mouth, crumbs tumbling and catching on her plentiful bosom. She moaned and smacked her lips with every bite; lipstick-stained teeth and half-masticated sponge cake rolling around in her gaping maw. Andy shuddered, and found himself actually _wishing_ his parents would show up; he would happily take _their_ punishment over this one.

             The room was hot, too. Summer had rolled around early this year, and the afternoon sun was beating down on him through the office window. A ceiling fan rattled overhead, but did little more than push the already hot air around. An air conditioner hung useless on the wall. Mrs Beasley’s influence, he figured; just another element of her unique brand of child torment. He idly wondered if maybe she was some kind of human-lizard.

             Andy spotted movement in his periphery, a car pulling into the parking lot which he instantly recognised as his father’s. His hopes rose slightly; maybe his mom was busy and dad had come alone. His dad stepped from the vehicle, wearing his dress blues, and Andy’s hopes began to fade; dress blues were a bad sign. Dress blues meant he’d been in meetings, which meant he was liable to be irritated, either by the meetings themselves, or from being called away from them.

             _Crap_ , he thought.

             The boy’s heart sunk further when the passenger door opened and he saw the ominous form of his mother step out of the car, also in her blues. _Double crap_. Even from this distance, with her sunglasses shielding much of her face, he could sense her anger, her red lips pursed into a stern frown. He could hear every resounding click of her heels on pavement as she and her father made their way around to the front of the building. Andy sunk in his chair, groaning quietly and wishing he could go back in time two hours. The smacking mouth of Mrs Beasley spread into a cakey grin.

             Andy peered down the hallway, watching as if in slow-motion the double door burst open and the striking silhouette of his mother appeared. She stalked the hallway with purpose, _click-clack- **click** - **clack** - **CLICK-CLACK**_. His stomach churned at the sight of her. He was _so_ dead.

             When his parents reached the office, his dread was fully realised. Mrs Beasley’s sadistic grin widened as she wordlessly nodded toward the boy. His mother’s stony face turned to him, and she reached up and removed her sunglasses to reveal the full gravity of her angry glare. Behind her, his father looked on, his face an unreadable mask.

             There was a buzzing sound from behind the desk as Mrs Beasley hit the intercom.

             “Ms Decker, Mr and Mrs Alenko have arrived,” she whined.

             “Send them in,” came the nasal reply.

             Andy gulped and stood, head down, hands stuffed into his pockets.  His mother crossed the room and prodded him in the arm, pointing fiercely at the principal’s door. Her silence unnerved him; at least when she was yelling he knew where he stood. He began his feet-dragging, head-hanging trudge toward his prosecution, the click-clack of his mother’s heels behind him like the spurring of bullet fire. She reached for the door handle and gave it a turn, her hand on his back guiding him forward. No escape. No retreat.

             At that exact moment, there came a calamitous commotion from the hallway, outraged shrieks met with vehement denials and indignant excuses. Andy smirked at the sound of the voice; his father sighed. His mother seethed.

             “Well if you taught the history right, then the drone wouldn’t be necessary!” Ash yelled defiantly.

             “I’ve been teaching this history longer than you’ve been alive, young lady!”

             “Then there must be a whole lot of misinformed adults out there!”

             “How dare you! Mrs Beasley! Please inform the principal that there is _another_ Alenko here to see her.”

             “One at a time, Mr LeClerc,” Mrs Beasley bleated disinterestedly.

             Shepard shook her head and buried her face in her palm. She shot a glance to Kaidan, who nodded and expelled another heavy sigh, hanging back to deal with the new situation.

             “Close the door behind you, Mrs Alenko,” Ms Decker directed, not bothering to get up. She nodded towards the empty chairs before her desk.

             Andy was glad for the carpet silencing her mother’s walk. She closed the door, stealing one more glance at her pacing husband. He shot her a secret, supportive smile.

             Shepard felt an odd sense of dread as she sat down in that uncomfortable, rickety wooden chair, its straight back unforgiving against her spine, forcing her slightly forward. Principal Decker regarded her with a kind of curt querulousness, the sort of attitude that said ‘I would rather eat and pass a cactus than have to endure another moment in your company’. It was a far cry from deference Shepard was used to, and would have almost been refreshing were it not so… grating. It was hard not to imagine that Shepard was the one in trouble here, not her son.

             Her tailbone jabbed uncomfortably into the seat, but she refused to squirm – unlike the twelve year old on her right, who had done nothing but since he sat down. Ms Decker’s beady little eyes were fixed hard on Shepard, her pointy face cast in severe shadows that made her look older than she probably was. Beads of sweat clung to her hairline and rolled down her nose. Shepard couldn’t help but fixate on the errant droplet as it hung there, stubborn against the pull of gravity, for what seemed an eternity before dripping onto the desk. Shepard grimaced.

             “Well, let’s hear it,” she finally said after a tense moment of silence.

             “Mrs Alenko,” Ms Decker began, her shrill, nasal whine loaded with a heavy measure of disdain. “I understand that you lead a rather…colourful…life. And I’m sure that we all appreciate the function you perform.”

             Shepard cocked an eyebrow. **_Function_** _I perform? What am I, a kitchen appliance?_

             “And far be it from me, a simple _educator_ , to dictate how you raise your children…”

_And yet…_

             “…However, this latest incident – in a string of rather wild behaviour, I might add – has left me wondering just how _involved_ you are in his upbringing at all.”

             Andy shot a guilty, yet curious, look at his mother. After a direct provocation like that, he expected fireworks, but was disappointed to barely even see a spark. Was she…smiling? Andy frowned, confused.

             Shepard fumed, her mouth contorted into something resembling a smile, but probably closer to a sneer. Her brow furrowed with the effort of forcing the gesture, but that diversion of concentration was the only thing stopping her from reaching across the desk, grabbing Ms Decker by the collar of her gaudy blouse and laying her out on the floor with a solid punch.

             “Why don’t you just tell me what he did?” She ground the words out through clenched teeth.

             Principal Decker sighed, the overwrought drama of it unmistakable. “During recess, your son climbed onto the roof of the main building, where he proceeded to target and shoot other students in the playground with a high-powered water rifle—”

             “Well that’s hardly—” Her protest was met with a halting palm.

             “—filled with _ketchup_.” Ms Decker glanced down, shuffling some pages around, looking for something. “He was heard yelling such things as ‘Scratch one!’ and ‘That another for Team Dextro’.”

             “…Oh.”

             “Now, aside from the obvious _safety_ concern of your son monkeying around climbing on top of buildings, I think you’ll agree that there is a far more disturbing matter in play here.”

             Shepard nodded gravely. “Ketchup stains like a bitch.”

             Ms Decker was unamused. “Of course I am referring to his rather unusual choice of hobby, Mrs Alenko. But that you would so casually throw around such language in front of an impressionable lad like Anderson, only serves to confirm the suspicions that I have about the boy’s unruly upbringing. The boy needs structure, and discipline! You should ne nurturing good, wholesome interests: reading, writing, and the finer arts! To say nothing of the company that he keeps. Turians, Mrs Alenko? It’s hardly a wonder that the boy is exhibiting such unsavoury interests!”

             “Gunplay _is_ a fine art,” Shepard muttered aside. She found it difficult to maintain any kind of disapproving pretence for Andy’s benefit when she herself had become the object of the reprimand. Shepard could hardly believe the audacity of the woman.

             Ms Decker sighed. “As it seems I have failed to appeal to your sense of reason…Anderson will remain after school for an additional half hour per day for the remaining three weeks of the school year. And I sincerely hope that by the time summer vacation rolls around, Mrs Alenko, that you will have considered what I said and arrange suitable activities for him during the break.”

             Andy opened his mouth to complain, but was silenced by a fierce look from his mother.

             “Fine. And naturally I’ll cover the cost of the damaged clothing. I trust you can put the other parents in touch with me. You know, at my office. At Alliance Command. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.” Shepard feigned a congenial smile.

             Fury seethed behind the principal’s beady little black eyes. “Of course. _Admiral_. And what a magnanimous gesture of you.”

             Shepard stood and peered down at her son, slung so low on his chair he was virtually on the floor.  When she nodded toward the door, he slid off the seat and scurried out of the room. Shepard followed close behind and pointed at the row of chairs along the wall. Mrs Beasley was up and rushing past them, disappearing into the principal’s office with a stack of papers.

             “Sit. Do not move.”

             Andy hastily sat down next to his sister, who shot him an amused smile which he dared not return in the presence of the Admiral. Kaidan pulled Shepard aside. They spoke in hushed tones.

             “So uh…what happened?”

             “Thanks to Garrus, I’m a bad mother and apparently he should start sculpting. Andy, that is. Not Garrus. Although…hmm.” She shook her head and waved a dismissive hand at Kaidan’s confused expression. “I’ll tell you later.”

             “Ms. Decker will see you now,” Mrs Beasley whined.

             “Your turn, Mr Alenko” Shepard said dryly, patting him supportively on the shoulder. “Good luck with that sour old bat.”

             Kaidan expelled a short, sharp sigh and looked at Ash, who smiled proudly at him on her way into the office. He shook his head. Suddenly, her being a ‘daddy’s girl’ didn’t seem like so much fun. He stepped into the room to see Ms Decker’s dark little eyes lit up. She stammered and stumbled, falling over herself to get around the desk and usher him to the vacant chair.

             “Oh, Mr Alenko! Won’t you please sit? Can I get you anything to drink perhaps?”

             “Ah, no. Thank you, Ms Decker,” he replied as he sat, offering a thin smile spiked with his discomfort. Beside him Ash was rolling her eyes.

             She gave a tittering laugh. “Oh, please Mr Alenko. Call me Josephine, won’t you?”

             Ms Decker rounded the desk and half-stumbled backward into her leather chair, the fabric groaning under her weight. Ash snickered, at which the woman cleared her throat diffidently. She rifled through the papers on her desk, reviewing the incident report filed by Ash’s history teacher, Mr LeClerc, though clearly distracted. Her glance shot up frequently, accompanied by a small smile each time her eyes landed on Kaidan. He cleared his throat uneasily.

             “So, it seems there was a disturbance in your class this afternoon, Ashley? Would you like to explain what happened?”

             Ashley shrugged, turning to her father and addressing him directly. “He’s always teaching it wrong. I got sick of it and wrote a VI program and installed it into an info drone. It teaches way better than Mr LeClerc does. He’s a bosh’tet!”

             “Ash, please; we’ve spoken about your liberal use of that term before” he said firmly, frowning his disapproval at her.

             “I’m sorry, dad. He still is one though.”

             Ms Decker’s tone was even and cordial; she laughed graciously, eyeing Kaidan up and down like she was sizing up a roast turkey. She licked her lips and…was that a _wink_? “Now Ashley…You’re a smart girl, certainly, but Mr LeClerc is a well-respected educator within this school. I sincerely doubt he—”

             “No,” Ash interrupted firmly, glancing sidelong at the principal. “He was teaching it wrong.” She looked back at her father. “Today we were talking about the Citadel Coup back in 2186. You remember right, dad? Anyways, Mr LeClerc was insisting that it was _you_ who stopped Udina and saved the Council. But it wasn’t; it was mom! Sorry dad, but it’s just true. Mom told me all about it herself.”

             Kaidan’s cheeks flushed, which only seemed to encourage Ms Decker’s dalliances. “I…well…”

             “Oh, dad. It’s okay.” Ash patted him on the shoulder. “You didn’t know any better. Don’t feel bad. Lots of other people were fooled by him as well! Probably even some of them other Spectres. Maybe? Anyways, I popped the info drone out and it started correcting Mr LeClerc every time he got some detail wrong. It was going off a lot, dad. Like, a _whole_ lot. Finally he just snapped and started yelling at me, and well, here we are. It’s totally unfair, I mean, if he was just less of a bosh’tet, none of this would even have happened!”

             Kaidan sighed with exasperation. Totally stripped down by her own daughter in front of her principal; although the way Ms Decker’s gaze kept running over him, she seemed to be doing a pretty thorough job of dressing him down herself.

             “Where exactly did you get the info drone?”

             “Liara. Tali helped with the programming though. She’s so awesome, dad, like, you have no idea. You’re no slouch with the tech, I know, but _Tali_. I mean…awesome.”

             Another sigh.

             Ms Decker leaned back in her chair, clearly uninterested or even completely unaware of the exchange that was unfolding before her. “My, but it is warm in here.” She fanned herself with her left hand, while her right hand seemed to be fiddling with the front of her blouse.

_Is she…? Popping a button? No…no she can’t be…_ Kaidan thought to himself, an unconscious sneer creeping across his face as he began to physically reel backwards. __

             “So, uh…detention, then?” Kaidan asked, standing abruptly.

             The principal’s eyes glazed over, she appeared lost in some daydream that Kaidan really didn’t really want to contemplate. “Hmmm? Oh, yes, detention…detention...hmmm. Oh! Leaving already Mr Alenko? Are you sure I can’t get you a drink?”

             He was aghast; the woman was a complete lunatic. “No..no, thank you. Ash, let’s uh… let’s go. We’ll discuss this at home”

             “Finally!” Ash jumped out of her chair and stormed out of the room, clearly unfazed by the bizarre display.

             “Good afternoon, Ms Decker,” he said with a polite nod, only barely able to contain his compulsion to turn and run, _run_ from the room. Outside, Shepard and Andy were waiting in patient silence. They stood to meet them.

             “Kids, go get your things. We’re uh…we’re getting out of here,” Kaidan uttered, glancing quickly over his shoulder. Ms Decker was up from her chair, leaning over the desk and waving. She blew an air kiss, much to his chagrin. He shuddered violently and closed the office door.

             “See y’all next week,” Mrs Beasley taunted as they left.

             The children headed off down the hallway, Ash’s cocky exuberance disarming Andy’s guilty conscience and the two of them began laughing and jostling one another as they ran towards their lockers. Shepard sighed and shook her head as she and Kaidan followed slowly behind. The halls were deserted, classes still in session for another 20 minutes or so.

             “So Tali’s been giving her programming lessons. And, uh, apparently you’ve been giving her history lessons. Nice work during the Coup. Very emasculating. Thanks for that.” He shot her an amused smirk, gently nudging her with his shoulder.

             She grinned apologetically. “It’s important for women to have strong female role models and also I’m incredibly arrogant. Sorry about that. Sounds like we need to reign in Team Dextro, though; every visit ends with those two embroiled in some kind of drama. Did Ms Decker give you the whole ‘terrible parent rawr!’ routine as well?”

             Kaidan frowned and shook his head. “Uh, no. No, she uh…she unbuttoned her blouse. I think she thought it was a date,” he replied, absently scratching behind his ear. Shepard cackled uproariously. “Yeah, great, I’m glad you find my, ah, _objectification_ by our kids’ principal so hilarious.”

             “Hey, it’s hard to blame her. You’re still smokin’ hot, sweetheart.” Shepard winked playfully. “With such a winning personality, I’m sure Ms Decker is a little man-starved. Maybe we should send Uncle Jimmy her way.”

             “Harsh, Shepard. Even Vega has standards.”

             “Yeah. And they’re as fluid as whatever’s he happens to be drinking.”

             Andy and Ash came barrelling around the corner, backpacks on, arguing boisterously over which one of them was going to be in more trouble when they got home. Ash insisted that it was obviously going to be Andy, because she hadn’t done anything wrong, not really. Andy declared that Ash would be the one, precisely _because_ she didn’t think she’d done anything wrong, and that was way worse than shooting kids with ketchup.

             As they stepped outside into the hot afternoon sun, Shepard sighed. The heat was oddly refreshing after the stifling atmosphere inside that weird little office. The kids ran to the car, bouncing up and down impatiently and bickering light-heartedly as their parents took their time catching up.

             “You know… this is a really terrible school,” Shepard mused.

             “Yeah, uh…suddenly homeschooling looks pretty good.”

             Shepard paused thoughtfully. “I wonder if Liara’s busy.”

             “Yeah, I’m sure she’s got plenty of time. Not like she’s some big time information broker or anything. Oh wait.”

             “Hey; at least she won’t leer at you. As much,” Shepard offered helpfully.

             Kaidan shuddered. “Let’s ask tomorrow.”


End file.
